Regaining Neverland
by Marvin K. Mooney
Summary: As Wendy suffers a nasty divorce and the fear of loosing her children, Peter Pan returns to her as an adult and asks her to return to Neverland to save it from devistation.  Nerverland's troubles parody her own and she saves herself as well
1. Something worth Mentioning in Court

The room was dark, the air was stale and the people who sat fenced behind the court practically held their breath in suspense. It was nothing new in the court room today, just the normal, modern day man and woman suffering divorce because a world of lies, facades and sin succeeded in ruining what could have been love. The man, tall and fit with dusty hair and gentle eyes, sat himself where the plaintiff would sit, a lawyer at his side. He snickered with the old, gray man next to him, who had not found whatever joke it was that the man made funny in the slightest. In the lawyer's eyes, a man whom people called Mr. Robertson, one could clearly see the amount of dislike he had for his line of work and how he wished that people would fall in love and stay in love and not ruin the lives of other and waist their parents money by divorcing one and other.

Mr. Robertson turn behind him to notice there were only a few people sitting behind them on the benches. This man must not have many people support the decision he is making regarding his wife. What looked like the majority of family friend, and even some of his family, sat on the defendant's side of the room with many people standing in the back only to prove they support the wife. Mr. Robertson turned to Mr. Gosling and opened his mouth to speak.

"I know what you're thinking," said Mr. Gosling before Mr. Robertson could speak "and I know that I am in the right by doing this. She tells crazed stories to out children, she used to sit up all night talking to someone outside the window. I have sent her to psychiatric help and they claim there is nothing wrong with her, but I know Mr. Robertson." He said, a smirk appearing on his face as he turned back towards the front of the room. "I know."

Mr. Robertson slowly shut his jaw and did not intend to look at the man for the remainder of the day. He would rather not get his off on another rampage until they settles this awful matter. Then again, it would be awfully hypocritical of Mr. Robertson to blame this man for getting a divorce from his wife as he had done the same thing to his family only 10 years earlier. In fact, Mr. Robertson wanted to tell the man it is a terrible decision he is making and should actually just finished out the rest of their children's lives together and then leave. At his age, it will be difficult to find another woman, as Mr. Robertson is still unmarried, and terrible things may happen to the children if he is not careful. His daughter may grow up and want to shave her head so that the national guard may think she is a boy, or your son may talk about enjoying watching his pet snake stalk, kill and eat the mice that he feeds it.

Just then court room doors opens as a usually late Wendy Mora Angela Gosling entered the room with quite a boom. It was a noise loud enough to put breath back into those sitting as the audience. She was still an image of what she was when she was a girl. Her hair was a normal English color and her eyes a normal English blue. She was taller, developed and yet her smile held something that no one else in the court room held, though not even the judge could figure out exactly what it was. She took her place on the defendant's side of the room; no lawyer accompanied her.

"Alone, Mrs. Gosling?" Said the judge upon his seat

"Ms. Darling." she said as she set her purse down and took out a few papers. "Yes, I am alone. The divorce was final months ago and I paid my lawyer months ago. As of late I have not been so fortunate and I haven't the money to pay another."

The judge raised an eyebrow, she clearly said the wrong opening statement. "Yes, well then we will begin with the plaintiff's request in the matter." He said, his large jiggly chin shaking as he said "request" and "matter." Mr. Robertson stood and once again opened his mouth to speak, but, as Mr. Gosling had done the last time this happened, the formerly married man jumped up from his seat and began to address the court.

"Your Honor," he began most sincerely "I know the matter of our divorce had been settle last April, but recent events have made me wanted to change part of our agreement. Although a year and a five month ago Wendy Darling was a fit mother, I have recent information that she is not physically nor emotionally stable to handle children at this time. As I am such close friends with many of her coworkers, I have learned that her performance at work is slipping, she is losing focus with what she does and since the company is performing cut back this time of year, her name is in risk of being added to the list of those that need to leave. Also, I have recently learned that she is in danger of losing her apartment because she is not able to support herself money wise. Of course, her clothes always look nice and just the other day I noticed her eating at a very prestige restaurant.

"This is why I come to you with this proposal. I want full custody of our children. I am financial more suited to keep them healthy and happy. Furthermore, I would like to add about the state the children in when the come home from being with her. They go up to their bedroom and play in the strangest ways. Our oldest Courtney uses a coat hanger as a pirate's hook while our son Jordan jumps from bed to bed claiming he is flying. I just can not understand what she puts into their head to make them behave in such a way."

Mr. Robertson looked at Wendy, who was at first taking notes so she remembered what it was she wanted to say. She slowly stopped paying attention to notes and had a look of utter shock on her face. She was obviously very hurt by what her former husband was saying about her life and it seemed that she didn't know many of the things that her husband knew. Mr. Robertson was sure that she had no clue that she was about to loose her job and her home.

"Thank you very much Mr. Gosling. I do have a question though, why is it you hired a lawyer you did not intend to use?" The judged asked him honestly, looking at his former wife with pity in his eyes.

"I felt he could not deliver like I could." he said and say back down, Mr. Robertson slowly closing his jaw again and sitting down.

"Ms. Darling, do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, I do." She said after a moment of aggravated silence. "Most of what was said today I was not aware of. I do feel that if I am not aware of the fact my job and home are at stake then I do believe what he says is considered gossip and should not be taken as fact.

"I am a loving mother. I care for those children more than anyone else. I pay for their school, for their books and for their imagination. I buy them books, costumes, and anything they desire to play with and play in. I tell them stories from my childhood of Peter Pan and his Neverland. I only want to give them the world. It's true that I've had trouble adjusting to supporting myself. After all, I was sept off my feet as a girl; I had only ever lived with my parents and with my husband. With that said I don't spend my money on clothes and lunch for myself. I do buy the best food for my children and if they ever wanted something nice I was first to run to the store to buy it."

Mr. Roberts was quite happy for the woman. She was a good mother underneath even if it was hard for her to adjust to what her life was now. He wanted her to win, secretly.

"Ms. Darling, I think that for the present issue, you will need a lawyer to help you win this. I would like to reschedule this to Monday the 4th. That gives you a few days to line someone up, whether it's from the Government or someone you hire, and some time to think about the next few things you will say. Court adjured."

Wendy sat frozen for a long time. He had no faith in her. The people behind her had lost their fate, she could tell because everyone scurried for the door as quickly as they could. Being English, they'd rather not be seen on the loosing side of the argument. Mr. Gosling stood and shook his lawyer's hand and began to walk out of the room. Mr. Robertson was not happy with his client and made sure that he left the room first and decided to give him a ten minute head start. I would be better to stay and speak with the former Mrs. Gosling for a few minutes.

"Miss." he said in greeting.

She sniffled before she spoke and Mr. Robertson could see the hint of tear lines on her face. "Good day." she said politely and held out her hand to shake his. "Wendy Darling."

"Paul Robertson." He said and took her hand gently. She seemed so nice, very motherly, why would someone take the children from this mother?

"Please forgive me if I am short with you today, I am late for work and a little stressed out about it, now that I know my job is at stake." Her face was smiling even if her heart was heavy.

"Ms. Darling, I would like to switch parties if you wouldn't mind." Paul said to her and took a seat in the chair nearest her.

"Why? If you don't mind my asking." She said to him and stopped packing her things, turning her attention to his face as he spoke. The reason why did not matter to him anymore. Mr. Gosling was rude and arrogant and never gave him a moment to speak, always assuming that he knew the answer to whatever it was he had to say. Wendy listened, an admirable trait to have. He would love to have someone listen to him while he addressed the court, then after her comes back to the table politely whisper something to his ear and allow him to speak again. Mr. Gosling would never let such a thing happen.

"I would love to have you as my lawyer, though I can not pay much." she said looking at the ground. Her purse was obviously light as she could carry documents and paper in there instead of a check book and wallet.

"Consider it a favor." He said while standing. "It's been a pleasure, miss, and I will see you on Monday."

Thanks you were exchanged and they left the court room together. Mr. Robertson saw Wendy to her car and left her just in time to see Mr. Gosling fumbling with his keys. He bravely walked to him, his steps slow and well planned out. As he arrived, her began to speak before Mr. Gosling had a moment to notice him.

"I quit from your case." He said to him sternly and justly. Mr. Gosling only stood and looked at him, then quickly went back to his keys.

"Then begone, you were useless anyway." He said and managed to open the door.

Finally, Mr. Robertson was proud of the work he had done. It was something worth mentioning in court next week.


	2. Her Former Husband Just Might Be Right

Wendy, on the other hand, started her old Volkswagen with ease and drove in a rush. She worked in an office building as a secretary. It was an easy enough job for someone like her, who was pleasant and kind and enjoyed to help other. Her main duty was to answer the phone and make an excuse as to why T. W. Banks was not taking phone calls at this time. She also had to know a few simple technologies in order to keep up with her work. She knew how to use a typewriter quite well, though she was hardly ever given the opportunity to prove she knew, and she also had to know how to answer a phone, that was the most important part of her work. Beyond that there wasn't much else for her to do.

The drive there was like a dream and she didn't recall anything about it. One minute she was at the court and next she was at a very large silver building locking up her car and trying to quietly walk into the building without anyone seeing her. The front door didn't squeak, a firstfor that door, as she enter the building with a paper in front of her face. She pulled it down a little bit to look and see if anyone was in the foyer. There was the old security guard who was nice and friendly to everyone, lucky for Wendy he was talking to a very distressed woman, and there was the cleaning woman walking out of the door, mumbling to herself in Spanish as she headed for the front door. Her shoes made loud, echoing clunk noises as she walk to the wood stairs at the other end of the room, deciding it would be wiser to take the stairs to the fifth floor since more people use the convenience of the elevator. She looked up the well, thankful she didn't work on the top floor, and began her advance upward.

"Exercise is good for stress." She whispered to herself in a reassuring manner, watching her steps so she did not fall. She couldn't risk an injury now, with her job and home at stake. Not to mention her children, who couldn't be properly mother by a mother with broken leg. It's true her apartment is large, with three bedrooms and an extra that she turned into a study, and her job doesn't pay enough to really pay for all the expenses, but she tends to make it work as well as she can. The children are happy when they come to see her, they are very happy, and that should be all that matters. She loves them, feeds them well, keeps them clothed and bathed, and they enjoy to be with her.

Finally the fifth floor arrived and not a moment too late. As she opened the door to the floor where her desk was, Mr. T. W. Banks was leaving his office.

"Wendy?" he asked without looking up from his paper. Wendy slowly slid into her chair and answered in a polite tone.

"Yes, Mr. Banks?"

"Could you please have a copy of the Waterhouse report in it's entirety on my desk by the time I return from lunch." he said, looking down at her.

His appearance was as it is everyday. Slick black hair to match his elaborate mustache, and dark eyes almost the color of his hair. Everyday he wore a suit identical to the day before, black with navy pinstripes and a white collared shirt underneath. His tie was the only bit that expressed any sings of personality. On days when he's happy or in a moderately good mood, his wears a tie in the green family. The day wife left, and the few months which followed, he only wore blue. On days when he's stressed out about some big business meeting a black or gray tie is displayed, usually followed the next day by a red tie because the meeting didn't go as planned. Today's color was green, a more minty shade with half done in stripes and the other half done in dots.

"It will be ready sir." she is kindly, knowing that if she was to be caught late, nothing so terrible would happen.

As she caught her breath and copied the 78 page report, she began to relax. Her job was not at stake, she was not going to be fire. He trusted her with the report, why would he fire someone he trusted that much.

"And when Maria said no to him, he fired her." Said an all to familiar voice.

"No. How could a man do that to a woman." Said an unrecognizable one.

"Well, apparently she wasn't the only one. Jane Asher, remember her, he asked her for a little kiss too and now she does janitorial work on the first floor. Patty Wallace too." Clarice was the one doing all the gossiping. Not too long ago, a joke comic was release about her. Mr. Banks was making an announcement in the comic that the company has a new system of spreading news to others. It was to simply tell Clarice, it would be faster than email.

"Actually, don't tell anyone this, but I heard this morning that he wants to see Wendy Gosling in his office when he gets back from lunch.

"Its Darling now, I'm divorced." She said, making Clarice jump right out of her paunchy work dress and diabetic shoes.

"Oh, my dear, I didn't see you there." She said, trying to make an excuse for herself. The older woman next to her almost couldn't contain her laughter, instead she excused herself to the restroom; Wendy heard her laugh outside the door.

"Well, I do have to meet him in his office when he's back in. I am copying this report for him, I can assure you it's nothing of a sexual nature." She said in the most polite voice she could. I would be hard to continue that voice if Clarice didn't leave soon.

Instead it was her lucky day. Page 78 came shooting out of the printer and Wendy was off to her desk. Before she was able to reach her chair, Mr. Banks came back in with an extra coffee. Without moving any muscle on his neck he was able to see her there and say "Wendy, follow me if you will."

His office was not a bit different from his personality. Black and white, very clean with one bookshelf full of reports and one small and dying green plant. It was almost the same as the lobby where Wendy worked, a large open space with one couch and one desk. He motion for her to sit on the couch. She sat, slowly and gracefully, pulling down on her skirt as she sat. Mr. Banks took a seat very close and very much next to her.

"My dear." He said, his hand falling on her. "I would like to give you opportunity to grow."

"How so, Mr. Banks." She said feeling an unwelcome tension in the air. She wished greatly that his hand would move.

"I would like you to take the copy you just made, read it tonight, and be prepared to give a speech to the Waterhouse company about merging with ours. They wish to, but their demands are just...too much." he said, her hand moving from her hand to the bottom of her skirt. "A beautiful, smart, talented young woman like yourself can be very convincing." His hand graced in an upward motion, taking her skirt with it, though Wendy did not realized until the end of his sentence. In an instant she stood and turned to face him, trying not to look offended.

"I will have it read by the morning." She said holding out her hand to shake his.

He took her hand, but instead of a business goodbye, pulled her close and place his arm around the small of her back. After deeply inhaling her scent, he said "Take the rest of the day off, my dear, and please don't hesitate to call on me if you need...help." He kissed her neck as she carefully threw the heavy report into his groin to make his stop. To anyone who saw what she did, it would look as if it was done on purpose, but to Mr. Banks it was a complete accident.

Wendy didn't look at Clarice as she left the building, and took the stairs back down to her car. It was better that she took the day off, she couldn't bring herself to admit that her former husband my just be right.


End file.
